The Dream Hermione
by Ashleopard
Summary: Ron has an... interesting dream involving Hermione; Three-Shot that's not quite complete but getting there!
1. Chapter 1

**Guess what time it is? Romione SMUT! :D**

**So I haven't updated **_**How I Met Your Father**_** in a month (school, homework, blah blah blah) but after weeks of suffering mid-fanfiction crisis, I decided to take a break and just... I dunno… write some smut?**

**I swear that I'm going to get to it ASAP. And if I don't… I will… condemn myself to reading a Dramione fanfiction (no offense to any Dramione shippers out there). **

**But, seeing as this is written and that is not, please sit back and enjoy some Romione smut. :)**

**Third Person POV**

Ron climbed the final staircase of the Burrow to the floor where his room waited. With a hefty sigh, his hand lifted to twist the knob. The door clicked open. Ron pushed inside, surprised to find the room dimly lit by… was that candlelight? "What the…"

He walked inside. The room was empty apart from the usual furniture: a bed, the desk, and his decorative Chudley Cannons posters flying above. "Hello?" he called cautiously, drawing his wand from his Hogwarts robes. He did a double-take of the room before sheathing his wand again. Deciding he wouldn't need them, he kicked off his trainers and threw his black robes to the floor.

"Getting comfortable, I see."

A silky, smooth, almost seductive voice floated from the doorway behind him. He blinked at the wall once, then twice. Was it….? No, it couldn't be. Funny, he could've sworn that voice belonged to Hermione…

Turning cautiously, he was met with the sight of Hermione in the doorway. The front of her black robes was completely open, unabashedly revealing the customary grey knit V-neck jumper beneath. Ron didn't recall the sweater fitting so tightly to Hermione's curvy frame before, ruffled only by the white-buttoned shirt she wore beneath.

"Hermione?"

Soft ribbons of laughter bubbled from Ron's bushy-haired friend as she abandoned the doorframe. She approached him, sliding off her black robe and lifting her hands to rest on his chest so they rubbed small circles into the knit pattern. His hands automatically clasped to her forearms, trapping her near him even though she showed no signs of trying to escape. "Were you expecting anyone else?" she asked in a low voice that made the temperature in the room spike drastically.

"N-N-No…" Ron stuttered. Hermione's touch and proximity was enough to send his heart racing. After many long rows with Hermione over the 'Lavender Situation', the two hadn't spoken in weeks. But now here she was, standing close to him as if she were his girlfriend, not the highly-irritable, insufferable know-it-all Hermione he'd come to know. This new side of her excited him; a fact that was becoming painfully obvious in his now uncomfortably tight trousers.

If Hermione noticed, she didn't show it. Her eyes were completely focused on his face; her gaze a mixture of awe and hunger, though Ron sensed it wasn't food she was craving. She gnawed her bottom lip nervously as she may have gnawed the edge of her quill during an exam she was uneasy about taking. Ron didn't try to contain a grin as he realized that despite the differences she was currently displaying she was still Hermione. His Hermione.

Well, not quite. Not yet at least.

His smile grew slack. "Hermione," he started, stumbling on the first four syllables of what he had been hoping to make a smooth speech. "I'm so sorry. Lavender and I…" he gulped, shaking his head solemnly. "I was mad at Ginny. She hinted you snogged Krum and I thought… I thought wrong. I thought I could prove that I was as mature as her by getting my own girlfriend and making a complete git of myself. I didn't realize it would hurt our friendship and the last thing I wanted was to lose you-"

But Hermione stopped the words that were falling from his mouth by leaning forward and planting a kiss on his lips. While the kiss was gentle – their lips barely brushing – it was enough to stop Ron dead in his tracks. His eyes shut and he savored everything about the kiss he had been waiting so long to experience.

Ron had spent many, many hours with Lavender; from hardcore snogging to careful, feathered kisses such as this one. But no matter how many times he'd tried to imagine his favorite bossy know-it-all instead of his busty blonde girlfriend, he would never have been able to imitate the real thing. Hermione's single kiss was the equivalent to months snogging Lavender.

After several year-long seconds, Hermione drew away. Ron opened his eyes, staring quizzically at her through the thin barrier of oxygen that separated them. Hermione giggled, causing his confusion to grow even more. Then, in an event rare enough in itself, she gave him a real, genuine smile.

Through the years, Hermione had indeed smiled at Ron, but this smile was different. It was a smile that he'd never seen before. It was sly and knowing and seemed to radiate confidence. Something about the way she seemed to have it perfected told Ron she'd worn such a smile before while he wasn't looking.

Her head tilted downwards ever so slightly so she was almost looking up at him, making the smile look more like an invitation. She gently pulled her right arm from Ron's not-so-forceful hold and traced his arm up to his shoulder. "Prove it, Ron," she said defiantly. "Show me that you missed me and I'll show you that I forgive you."

Ron wasn't one to back down from a challenge. He pulled Hermione back to his lips with the arm he still held and wrapped his left around her back. If their first kiss was a leaf falling into a calm pond of water, this kiss was a raft crashing through the rapids. Their lips collided as the raft was assaulted over and over by unrelenting waves that had been churning for years. Had Lavender not prepared him, the passion storming from Hermione's lips may have shocked Ron. He groaned quietly as Hermione let out a muffled drone of delight.

Hermione's lips focused their attention on Ron's lower lip; a silent shaky breath begging him not to stop. Ron almost smiled as he realized how he was getting back at her for being nasty to him since fourth year. He was driving her as barmy as she had been driving him. The revelation was as sweet as Butterbeer.

He gradually opened his mouth and pushed his tongue against her smooth lips. Hermione's body trembled against his as she met it with her own tongue and a hum of satisfaction.

Ron wasn't sure if Hermione had snogged anyone before, but she was bloody good at it. Their tongues met and sucked at each other's in a dance for dominance. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced with Lavender… she'd always succumbed to Ron. Hermione, on the other hand, met and challenged him in a different way that made adrenaline pulse maddeningly through his system. Ron's left hand roamed along the small of Hermione's back, catching and playing with the edges of her jumper. No complaint forthcoming from Hermione, he began pushing it further up and uncovered the white shirt beneath.

Hermione broke connection just long enough for him to discard the jumper. Ron did the same with his own, figuring he would find no better time to do so then the present.

The two met again, desperate in the clouds of lust that had begun accumulating over the room. Ron pushed Hermione back against the door, trapping her with his hands on either side. _Prove it, Ron, _he heard her voice in the back of his head. He grinned against her. _I'll prove it alright!_

His lips roamed, searing a trail of hot kisses and licks across her cheek until her reached her jaw bone, where he angled his attacks in a downward slope to her neck. Hermione's vocal cords vibrated beneath the tender flesh against Ron's lips. He inhaled her scent deeply while his fingers scrambled to undo her once neatly tucked tie. After discarding it, he resumed a steady pace with the buttons of her top. Hermione's fingers were tangled in his hair; scratching his scalp and coaxing him on. He obliged, only hesitating when he unbuttoned and revealed her lacy red bra.

Trusting his hands to undo the rest of the shirt on their own accord, Ron focused his attention on her partially exposed chest. He nudged aside the shirt and pressed his lips to her bra, his tongue tracing her erect nipple through the fabric. Hermione moaned, an action which Ron barely managed to contain himself.

Hermione's shirt slipped off. Ron wrapped his arms up around her as he groped her back, looking for the clasp of her bra. It took a moment to find it and much longer to unhook it. His fingers fumbled with the tiny catch, his attacks on it becoming sloppier as his thoughts were muddled in frustration.

Finally, he undid it and the last bit of wear that had been covering Hermione's torso fell to the ground to join its companions. Ron exhaled loudly in satisfaction, admiring her feminine figure. He cupped her breasts in his large hands, his expression changing from lustful concentration to tender admiration. "So soft," he whispered. "So small. So beautiful." He looked up at Hermione's face. She was biting her lip again as it twisted into a shy smile. Ron chuckled quietly and wrapped his hand around her neck, carefully pulling her busy mane behind her shoulders. "So perfect."

He bent to take her chest when she stopped him and pulled his face level to hers, a teasing glint in her eyes. "It just isn't fair," she said smoothly, "that you still have nearly all your clothes on." Her fingers tightened around his tie, pulling at his neck slightly. "We wouldn't want to be unfair, now would we, Ronald?"

Ron paused momentarily, curious at her choice to call him by his full name. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but he found it quite, for lack of a better word, sexy. Hermione went to work quickly, wasting no time as she flawlessly undid the tie and slipped all the buttons free of their holds. About half-way down, Ron impatiently removed the shirt over his head, giving Hermione access to his pale, speckled skin beneath. He felt her small fingers poking at his skin in a rhythm as she traced shapes into his freckles. Her mouth pecked at his flesh and he groaned at the wet feeling her lips left. She seemed to be trying to touch and claim every single freckle exposed to her in the most painstaking way possible.

But it wasn't the time or place for that particular challenge; not with the years of unfulfilled sexual tension hanging over their heads and certainly not with Ron's erection about to burst his trousers. His hands clutched Hermione's shoulders and pushed her so she was standing straight. His eyes traveled along Hermione's soft, curvy figure. He met her beautiful brown eyes, his own blue eyes a mix of awe and need. He wanted to simply stare at the stunning creature standing before him, yet he wanted to consume her wholly and mercilessly at the same time.

"Hermione," he whispered huskily, "all these years… all this time… I love you. I love you, Hermione. More than a friend, more than companion, more than anything." He inhaled deeply, as if to control himself. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers as he continued. "And I want you, Hermione. Want you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life… more than food, more than fame," – he snickered lightly – "and far more than I've ever wanted Lavender."

Hermione's eyes were wet and glowing. She bit her bottom lip, drinking up Ron's confessions as she met his intense stare with equal regard. "I love you too, Ron." He smiled in relief. "And I want you. It's only ever been you, Ron. Not Cormac or Viktor. You." The impish glint returned to her eyes; the glint that she'd walked into his room wearing. Her fingers clenched in Ron's scruffy hair, ruffled from recent ordeals.

The smile that hijacked Ron's face was so big it was a wonder it didn't fall off his face. "Me," he said, as if the word were the single most significant thing he'd ever said. "Me." His arms wrapped so tightly around her back that she was pulled flush into his frame. Ron shuddered at the feeling of her bare skin against his; her nipples pushed into his chest. He had to struggle to force his next words out. "As long as you want me, Hermione, I'm yours."

Hermione pulled herself closer to Ron, if that was even possible. "And I'm yours, so what are you waiting for, Ron?" Her voice lowered to a seductive whisper. "Take me."

Those two words were all he needed to hear. Without further hesitation, Ron obeyed. His tongue met Hermione's in yet another battle as their lips clashed. His hands explored Hermione's skin until they found where her skirt hugged her waist. His left hand held the dip of Hermione's midriff while his right slid beneath the cloth and began pushing it down her legs. Ron felt Hermione shiver as his fingers skimmed down her thighs. Letting go, he heard a light _thump _as the fabric met the floor.

Ron could almost feel the heat radiating from beneath Hermione's knickers. He scowled and restrained himself from thinking too much of it; much more thought would certainly have been enough to push him over the edge. He retreated a ways to tear off the last of his clothes. Once they too joined the pile, he turned his gaze to Hermione. A long moment of curious observation between the two of them passed before anyone spoke. Ron glanced quickly at the bed. "Shall we…?"

She beamed with a nod, grabbing his arm and leading him to his own bed. She sat at the edge. Ron wasted no time connecting their lips, his hands massaging over her belly and ribcage as he helped to lay her down. He took his time, not moving with any particular haste as he slowly maneuvered her body with his hands. His left hand fondled her breast while his right clutched her waist and thumb traced circles over her hip bone. As if answering a silent question, Hermione opened her legs to let Ron between them. He took said spot, his lips moving down Hermione's body until they found and took her chest. His mouth now occupied, his hands repositioned so one held him up while the other traced the curves of her body right down until he found her neatly shaven womanhood hidden beneath a flimsy bit of sopping fabric.

Ron, having finally ventured out of his area of knowledge when it came to intimate situations, started experimenting. His hand slithered down and he cupped her mound in his hand, pushing firmly against the fabric of her knickers as if trying to decipher what was beneath without seeing. Hermione inhaled sharply, her head falling back against the pillow as he touched her. Feeling more confident after her non-disapproving reaction, he slipped his fingers underneath her knickers and pulled them off. Hermione willingly helped and sent them flying off the bed and out of mind.

Ron stretched back to reach her lips with his, supporting himself with one arm and used his other to explore Hermione. He traced her folds deliberately before dipping two fingers into the silky wetness, making Hermione gasp. He swirled his fingers around a moment before pulling out and bringing them up to his face. He sniffed curiously before tasting the juices while Hermione watched, seemingly flabbergasted. He chuckled quietly. "You're fucking drenched."

Hermione nodded soundlessly as Ron repositioned himself more comfortably above her. The both gasped as their privates met, his cock resting between her hot, wet folds. He shut his eyes tightly, basking in the new sensations as they blazed through him at this new contact. Ron forced himself to open his eyes and look down at her where she waited, watching him with thick anticipation. Feeling it was physically impossible to simply hold himself there any longer, Ron thrust himself into Hermione.

"Bloody hell!" he groaned, surprised by how beautifully hot and tight she felt clenching around him. Beneath him, Hermione was rigid. "You okay?" Ron asked, suddenly worried that he'd hurt her.

Hermione looked up at him, only her eyes betraying the pain she must've been experiencing. "Yes, I believe," she said, her voice sounding strained.

Ron hesitated, giving her a moment to recover before he tried to move. "Do you want me to... or... what?"

"Just, go slow, it'll be better," she answered. Ron nodded and slowly pushed into her before retracing nearly the entire way out. No complaint forthcoming, he repeated a few times until Hermione told him it'd be okay to go faster. Hesitant at first, he listened, though his caution didn't last long once he got moving. Knowing Hermione wasn't uncomfortable, he was finally able to fulfill his own needs. He continued at a more rapid pace, forgetting about Hermione's previous requests as she moaned in pleasure beneath him, "Oh god, yes! Mhm.. faster..."

Ron nodded and pounded into her with animalistic ferocity, shoving deep inside her. She thrust to meet him in time. "Fuuuck," he growled. "Love your pussy Er-Mione…." His words trailed off. He knew that due to his lack of experiance he wasn't going to last much longer and he wanted to get Hermione off too. He lowered his hand to where their groins were connected and rubbed his thumb roughly against her clit. Hermione arched her back, her moans becoming louder.

Ron felt Hermione tense beneath him. He growled, his erection twitching inside her as her muscles clenched and she screamed his name. Ron gave one last enormous thrust, growling bits and pieces of her name and assorted swear words as he released his load deep inside her. He held himself on trembling arms as he finished before let himself fall beside her, his spent cock slipping out of her.

A few minutes passed as they recovered. Ron smiled at Hermione lying naked beside him. "Holy shite," he laughed. "We just… Hermione Granger… sex."

Hermione giggled, rolling onto her side and resting her arm across his chest. "I love you," she breathed.

Ron watched her, not sure if he'd ever been happier in his life. This was the Hermione he had always wanted to know; the wild, randy side. Not just the booky, smart witch that had been his friend for years. There was no more guessing, now he was certain Hermione wanted him the same way.

Nuzzling his nose into her untamed hair, he was about to respond with his own declaration when he was interrupted by a new voice.

"OI! Wake up!"

"Humph?"

Ron was jolted from sleep to find his best mate (some best mate) Harry Potter standing over him. Remembering what he'd just experienced, he was initially alarmed by the sudden appearance of Harry, at least until he realized where he was.

He was not in the Burrow. He was not starkers in bed with Hermione. He was lying on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, completely dressed in his Hogwarts uniform. But there was a suspicious wet feeling in his trousers….

"What was that for, Harry?" he complained as he sat up, nonchalantly grabbing a pillow to hide the possible spot on his trousers. This certainly wasn't the first time Harry had witnessed him having a wet dream. After sharing a Dorm for six years, Ron had had plenty of chances to see Harry having his own sleep fantasies. It wasn't a matter of embarrassment as much as annoyance. "That had to be the best dream I've had all year!"

Harry crossed his arms. "In case you didn't notice, you fell asleep in the _Common Room_! You're lucky I'm the one who found you. I reckon Lavender wouldn't fancy the sight of you moaning Hermione's name in you sleep."

Ron glared at him silently, knowing he was right while not wanting to admit it. Harry returned his gaze before rolling his eyes and adjusting his glasses. "I'll be up in the Dorm. You'll want to get yourself cleaned up sometime and probably change before breakfast… but you have a few minutes before anyone comes down." Without waiting for Ron's response, he started up the stairs.

Relieved to be alone, Ron sighed and let himself fall back against the couch so he could relive his most recent wet dream about Hermione. She had been starring in his wankings and dreams since late second year, but this most recent one had to be one of his favorite experiences. On the contrary from what he had firstly believed, she'd been making more appearances since he started dating Lavender.

Thinking of the many encounters, Ron felt his arousal stirring again. He gulped and shifted in his seat to retrieve his wand from his pocket. He cleansed himself with a simple spell. Too bad there wasn't a spell to stop an erection from coming…

The gentle tread of footsteps from the stairs leading to the Girls' Dormitories alerted him that he wasn't going to be alone for long. He didn't have to listen carefully to know it was Hermione's footfalls. He'd learned to distinguish hers from others long ago.

She paused at the bottom of the stairs as she saw him. Their eyes met, uncertain what to do or say. They hadn't spoken in weeks and he was pretty sure she was still mad at him. He was surprised when she took a step closer to him and softly said, "It's Saturday. What are you doing down so early?"

Ron gulped. She was wearing her black robes to distract from the tank top and Muggle pajama bottoms underneath. She was obviously on her way for a quick stop by the library before burying herself in her studies for the weekend. Ron bit back a groan at how much was exposed despite her attempts to subtly hide her shape. Now he could definitely feel a stiffy fighting against his trousers.

"I… er… fell asleep down here." He felt it was better off that he spared her the details.

"Oh." Hermione closed most of the gap so she was about two feet from him. _No, _Ron told himself. _This isn't dream Hermione. This is real Hermione… and real Hermione would hex your bollocks off if she knew what you were dreaming about doing to her! _But she stood so close to him, biting her lip that way she'd done so often in his dreams. "I was on my way to library," – big surprise there – "would you like to come with me?"

He cringed. _You don't know how much I'd love to come with you… _he thought. "Um… I can't come with you now, but maybe some other time, yeah?"

Hermione smiled. Not just any smile, _the _smile. That smile she'd only smiled at him in his dreams. Could she possibly be thinking any of the dirty thoughts that constantly plagued his mind? "Sure, Ron. I'd love you to come with me sometime."

Ron needed to relieve himself horribly. Every single thing about this encounter was reminding him of his dream. Maybe he should just fess up and tell her about how he felt. Looking into her chocolate brown eyes, it was impossible to believe anything would or could go wrong in such a scenario.

He was on the verge of doing so when he heard another pair of footsteps stumbling down the stairs. His mouth clamped shut as he remembered why he couldn't tell her.

He had a girlfriend.

Hermione stood straight; the smile disappearing as she curtly nodded and said, "Nice seeing you, Ronald."

Ron just managed to stifle a groan.

And just like that, Ms. Prim-and-Proper Hermione Granger was out of the portrait hole and on her way to the library faster than Ron could have said 'Quidditch'. She made it out just before Lavender appeared and saw Ron. She squealed and ran over, taking a spot beside Ron. Ron's extreme excitement was fading with Hermione's presence. Lavender was definitely worth a good hard-on, but with each passing dream he was becoming less interested in her.

Lavender leaned in to give him a heated kiss on the lips. Ron responded, thoughtlessly running his fingers through her hair. "Ron," she hissed, backing away. "You're going to mess up my hair!"

Ron apologized, not feeling cheated in the least. It hadn't felt right anyway… her hair was too thin and straight. How was he supposed to tangle his fingers in it? How was he supposed to get lost in it?

Not for the first time since their relationship began, he wondered, _Maybe I'm not. Maybe there's a reason this doesn't feel right… nah. What other way is there? The real Hermione? Forget it you bloody wanker!_

Ron knew he would never get lucky enough for the real Hermione. He knew that the real Hermione was all about books and grades. She would laugh and tell him how immature he was if he even suggested it. He knew she would never choose a guy like him; probably end up with a stuck-up Ravenclaw git who got top grades and would be able to give her everything she could possibly want.

What he didn't know was that one day she was going to kiss him. One day they were going to make love. One day he was going to get down on one knee and on that same day she would say yes. One day he would be holding their daughter in his arms and another day their son.

What he refused to believe on Saturday morning was that one day he'd be in love with Hermione Jean Granger – the brightest witch of their age.

**So thanks for reading this… I hoped you found it enjoyable! If you liked it enough, I'd appreciate if you leave a review (praising or constructive criticism; it all works for me) and I'll try to get to my other fanfiction.**

**Have a Happy Halloween…. (R.I.P. James and Lily Potter)**

**But seriously, have a Happy Halloween. :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**So after the reviews I received (and an inspirational amount of free time/dirty thoughts) I decided to turn this into a three-shot! These first two chapters are obviously Ron/Hermione's fantasies and next chapter will be when the love comes to life! :D**

**So, without further ado… Chapter 2!**

**Third Person POV**

Hermione sighed and flipped aimlessly through the pages of her Level 6 Charms Textbook. She had been studying so long that even she – Hermione Jean Granger – was tired of studying. She'd already reviewed for her Potions test, Ancient Runes essay, Defense Against the Dark Arts quiz, and finished her Charms homework.

She closed the book and gently set it in a neat pile with her clean parchments, notes, other books and quills. She exhaled deeply and slouched, pushing her chair away from the desk which she'd spent the last several hours sitting at. She stood and stretched her stiff muscles, kicking off her shoes and socks as she saw to get herself ready for bed.

Just after she'd taken off her black robes and started untying her tie, there was a knock on her door. _Who could that be?_ Hermione wondered. _Lavender, Fay, and Parvati wouldn't need to knock to come in and neither Harry nor Ron knew the spell to get into the Dorms._

"Come in," she called as she finished undoing her tie and set it on the foot of her bed to take care of later. The door opened soundlessly and footsteps trudged in. Hermione glanced from her sheets in surprise at the noise she recognized so easily. "Ron? How... what are you doing here?"

Ron grinned cockily from where he stood in the middle of the room, facing her. Hermione's heart accelerated. She had hardly acknowledged Ron's presence in the school since he had begun his relationship with his precious 'Lav-Lav'. While in her head she wanted to be mad and yell at him to leave the room immediately, her heart seemed to have other things in mind; and her body was sided with it.

After thirty seconds, Hermione finally found her voice. She crossed her arms over her chest, putting up her defenses in preparation for anything from a row to an apology (which she figured she was well entitled to by this point). "Ron," she said more clearly. "Are you looking for Lavender?"

Ron's smirk faded a hint and his brow furrowed in a mixture of annoyance and what appeared to be thoughtfulness. "Why would I be here for Lavender?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Hermione felt emotions boiling like a hot ball of molten lava in her chest. "She's your girlfriend, or don't you remember?" Hermione hissed. "You know, the obsessed blonde bimbo who wants to snog you constantly..." her voice cracked but she continued. "Never spent time getting to know you and never rowed with you... just leapt in there and snogged you instead of dreaming about it day after day."

Ron shook his head. "Didn't you hear?" he asked. "Lavender and I are through." What confused Hermione more than Ron's almost hurt expression was her own emotions. She was absolutely, positively thrilled, yet she felt bad for Lavender; bad for Lavender because her airy-headed roommate didn't understand what she'd had with Ron and how much Hermione herself wanted it. Who in their right mind would give up on a guy as tall and handsome and charming as Ron? Well, charming in his own way... but charming nonetheless.

"Really?" Hermione prayed she didn't sound as hopeful to Ron as she did to herself. "I mean, really?" she tried to sound more downcast. "I'm sorry, what happened? Do you want to talk about it?"

Ron cocked his eyebrow at her. "I reckon that's what I'm here to do," he said, sounding slightly amused. He stepped closer so one of his hands rested on Hermione's shoulders in a friendly manner, though it didn't feel friendly in the least. Hermione could swear someone had just spiked the temperature ridiculously. She fought the urge to tear off her wool jumper which only seemed to be trapping the heat.

"The reason I broke up with Lavender was you," he said quietly. Hermione's heart skipped a beat as he continued. "While I guess it was nice to have a girlfriend, well, I didn't like how she got between us." He looked down at Hermione, his eyelids half closed so he was gazing at her with a lazy smile. His ear tips were turning pink. "We've known each other for so long... I don't know why I let her get between our friendship like that, but I was a git to let it happen. I'm sorry."

Hermione trembled, biting her bottom lip and watching the floor while trying to swallow her disappointment and grief. She wanted nothing more than to kiss and forgive him... but with the way he had just spoken, Hermione was just less than positive that that would ever happen. Willing her eyes to dry, she shrugged and avoided his gaze. "And I'm sorry we rowed, too. I shouldn't have been so sensitive. It's just that..." She stopped abruptly, realizing just how much she had been about to give away.

"Just what?"

"Nothing."

Ron shifted so he was holding both of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Just what, Hermione?" he asked in a demanding voice that made Hermione shiver.

"Oh, Ron," she whimpered, hating how vulnerable she sounded. "It's just that... that I was jealous." She didn't give him time to ask. "I was jealous that Lavender had the strength to do and get what - what I've wanted so badly for so long... and she did it so effortlessly."

By the look on Ron's face, Hermione could tell he knew what she was talking about, but he kept silent, his face blank. She looked at his chest while waiting for an answer. After what Hermione determined to be one extremely long minute, she grew tired of his... whatever it was. Stalling? Amusing himself? She didn't care. "For Merlin's sake!" she hissed. "I know you know what I'm telling you so just... say something!"

She stole a look up at his face to find him watching her with a strange expression. His brow was furrowed and his eyes squinted into two blue pools as they glinted with undefinable emotion behind sunset-colored lashes. Before Hermione could analyze and make an accurate hypothesis for the display, he leaned down and planted a bold kiss on her lips; an action that spoke much louder than his voice would have. Hermione felt her entire body - inside and outside alike - melting into his kiss. She unconsciously leaned forward and folded her arms against his broad, flat chest. He shifted his embrace so one hand held the small of her back, the other cupping her cheek.

Hermione's head was spinning like crazy. She hadn't done much kissing in her time. The so-called 'snogging' she'd done with Viktor had been more of a peck and her disgusting session with Cormac was nothing to brag about. Ron's kiss was, in her opinion, the best kissing could get. It wasn't uncomfortably awkward or freakishly intense; it was natural and real - a kiss that could leave her dizzy by simply daydreaming about it.

Ron pulled away so he was looking down at her sheepishly. She felt a rumble of laughter forming deep in his chest as he whispered, "Something," against the side of her head. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing, trying to return her ridiculous panting to normal breaths. Ron must have misinterpreted her intentions, for not ten seconds later he asked, "Er... you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to laugh. She opened her eyes and beamed widely up at him, soft giggles falling uncontrollably from her. Ron gave her a lopsided grin that did nothing to help her giddiness. "No, Ron," she sighed. "You're a magnificent kisser, or at least I think." She cocked her brow in what she hoped would be a suggesting manner. "But maybe we should kiss again... just to be sure."

Ron's face lit up like child on Christmas morning. Hermione didn't have long to savor it as he crashed his lips to hers again, showing no more hesitation than he did the time before. She groaned quietly and struggled to broaden her thoughts from her lips alone. Ron seemed to be having no trouble with that particular feat as his one hand was moving along her body, wrinkling the fabric of her jumper and untucking her white shirt to expose her thin belly. Where Hermione knew she should have felt skepticism or perhaps even guilt, she only found fervor and the painfully familiar throb of lust she had so commonly denied herself of feeling.

Strictly following instinct, Hermione opened her mouth and let her tongue explore Ron's slightly swollen lips. He responded almost immediately, opening his mouth and lavishly returning the favor. Hermione could and would have giggled if she hadn't been in an intense state of vertigo. It was finally happening...she was snogging Ronald Bilius Weasley.

While most of her brain was trying to process the ecstasy as it coursed through her arteries like pure electricity, a small fraction was analyzing every second and storing information away to cherish later. Small things, such as how he tasted like a delicious mix of chocolate and mint toothpaste or how his mouth and tongue were so painfully unrelenting that Hermione could feel each attack throbbing through her body and traveling straight to her core.

Ron's right hand tangled in her mane of hair and kneaded her scalp with ferocious desire. His left hand - after managing to escape her notice... somehow? - was under the clothing on her mid-back, just below where she knew her bra strap was resting. His fingers gently tickled and teased her sensitive back. She gasped loudly, her body arching into Ron's. The further contact achieved with her new position managed to revive a bit of her old self; the part that knew what was happening at that moment and knew where it was going. "Ron," she said quietly, fearing if she didn't speak now she wouldn't get another chance. "Ron, wait..." Ron froze so quickly Hermione imagined she could feel his limbs growing cold with disappointment. She clutched the front of his jumper tight, fearing he'd gotten the wrong idea and she herself terrified that he would try to move away. She reclined her head back so she could see his eyes, misty with confusion. "Before we go any further," she said, being careful to emphasize an edge to her voice. "I need to tell you something. And while I'm sure you know I just need to hear myself say it."

Ron watched her with an impressive amount of patience, especially given their current situation. Somehow it only managed to rile her nerves up even more. She took a deep breath before continuing, "I love you." She beamed, feeling a great sense of achievement. She couldn't count how many times she'd considered confessing to him but declined at the last minute.

Ron grinned ear-to-ear. Instead of declaring his own feelings directly to her, he bent over so she could feel his hot breath tickling her ear. "Good," he whispered softly. "Because I've loved you for quite some time now."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh breathlessly, taken by surprise when Ron's lips kissed the base of her ear. "I love you." Against her cheekbone. "I love you." The flat of her cheek, almost on the edge of her lips. "I fucking love you, Hermione."

"Ron!" she yelped, but her attempt to be serious was vain as they could both feel her face heating up and her lips smiling like mad. Ron's foul language had never failed to extract some sort of reaction from her; responses varying from positive to negative depending on the occasion.

Ron continued to kiss her as he finally reached her lips. "It's true," he said, his voice dripping amusement. "I fucking love you. Fucking love you so much it fucking hurts."

Hermione giggled and gazed up into his now sapphire blue gaze for a long moment, captivated by the amount of desire and love that mirrored her emotions. No longer able to stand it, she let the conversation drop and pulled her lips to his in a heated kiss. Ron didn't waste time resuming where they had left off, eagerly returning to massage her back and head while their tongues met in a rough duel for dominance which neither of them won nor lost.

Hermione lost concentration as he played along the edge of her bra strap, his fingers gently teasing the catch. The outrageous amounts of raw lust coursing through her told her to remove her clothing and let Ron have his way with her then and there, but she knew better. Well, more specifically, she knew she could get more out of the experience than that alone. She blindly pushed him backwards, relying on her legs and memorization of the room to get them where she wanted. Ron stumbled when his legs hit edge of the bed and he gracelessly pulled Hermione down with him as he fell. Their snogging was put on halt as he blinked in shock, realizing they were on the bed and Hermione was now on top of him. "Bloody hell," he said quickly, "I'm sorry-"

His words were lost to yet another kiss. Hermione rather enjoyed the new angle, probably because it gave her more power. Feeling bolder, she leaned back so she was kneeling over him and pulled Ron up to a sitting position in front of her. She pushed his jumper up his body until he caught on and threw it off. Hermione glared disapprovingly down at the white button-up shirt beneath. Why did the standard Hogwarts uniform require so many clothes? She hastily began unbuttoning it with as much speed as her shaky fingers would allow; her attentiveness to the task melting as she began uncovering his smooth freckled torso. She managed to finish and remove his shirt before letting herself properly admire his well-defined body. She traced one finger over a few freckles spread out on his broad chest in a deliberant manner, pondering where to start.

He didn't give her much time to think, apparently caught up in his own fantasies as he gave her a similar treatment to the one he'd just experienced. Within the minute he was relieving her of a lacy red bra she had no memory of ever owning, though that thought was tossed to the floor with the material as Ron took it upon himself to explore her freshly exposed skin with his hands and lips. Hermione grasped his shoulders desperately, straddling his legs between hers while he proceeded to attack her left breast with his mouth, her right getting a satisfying treatment from his hand. His tongue rolled around her nipple, teasing her by occasionally adding insufficient amounts of suction. She moaned, throwing her head back in bliss and frustration. So much… he was giving her so much, but it wasn't enough.

After some time Ron switched breasts and repeated, by which point Hermione had had plenty of time to decide what she wanted to say to him between the list of profanities and random gibberish thoughts that had resulted from his work. He released her right breast from his mouth, still gently fondling the other in his hand. Her breaths were light, fast-paced pants as she met his gaze for the first time in what felt like forever. His eyes – now a breathtaking shade of onyx – were asking her the question that was, without a doubt, the product of hormones, lust, and those many years of sexual tension that had followed both Ron and Hermione like a dark, ominous cloud, waiting for the perfect chance erupt into the storm that was currently the present. Hermione opened her mouth to answer the unspoken question, but found herself unable due to a large lump that had formed in her throat. She hadn't even realized she was crying (no doubt due to the sheer impossibility of the experience at hand). Thankfully, Ron saved her from talking.

"Was it really that bad?"

Hermione laughed, etching that infuriating arrogant smirk onto Ron's face. She shook her head silently, gently gliding her hand over the fringe of his flaming hair as it threatened to cover his eyes. For reasons Hermione couldn't name, Ron blushed and snaked his arms around her waist. She could feel his fingers tentatively separating the band of her wrinkled skirt from her knickers. His eyes accompanied them with that silent, hopeful plea she was so grateful to finally be able to give in to. "Yes, Ron, please," she breathed quietly, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against Ron's.

His grip around her waist tightened and she instinctively leaned backwards, wrapping her legs tightly around his middle. The world tilted and she felt the mattress beneath her; Ron's lean, muscular build directly above her. She relaxed her body as his lips softly pressed against hers, so much different than what they had been earlier. Now their lips danced at a languid pace, as if they were the only two people in the entire world. And, for that moment, they were.

The strange rush that had encouraged them this far this quickly had ebbed away, leaving them to enjoy the moment and the significance it held for them as a couple. Hermione could feel tension building inside her core with uncomfortable heat and the moist, sticky wetness of her arousal. Despite how she was indeed enjoying the slow, passionate snogging, she wanted – no, she _needed _more. "Ron," she whispered, mostly into his mouth. "Ron, I need you."

She felt Ron smile. He broke the kiss and looked down at her with an expression that she found quite familiar. He had a wicked gleam in his eyes and his face was alight in a mischievous grin that stretched ear-to-ear. It was the look he always wore when he, Harry, or Hermione would come up with an excellent idea to break the rules and save the world that could quite possibly result in severe punishment. She remembered the first time she'd seen it, when she'd suggested they make Polyjuice Potion way back in Second Year. "Uh oh," she said in mock worry. "What's on your mind?"

Ron rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I just wanted to try something. That is, if you're okay with it…"

By this point, Hermione didn't care what he was doing, as long as he was touching her...

"Go ahead."

He looked half-amused. "Really? Aren't you even curious about what it is before I-"

"Just do it!"

"You insist."

Ron gave her a gentle peck on the lips before going to work. He wasted no time moving his lips down to her chin and slowly continuing to migrate south along her collarbone, between the valley formed by her breasts, along her flat stomach to her navel and even lower, making the already scorching hot room turn to something more than sweltering. She bit her bottom lip to try and contain the surely inhuman noises that threatened to escape her at the anticipation of what was to come.

Ron peeled Hermione's skirt and soaked knickers from her skin and slid them down her legs much too slowly for her liking. She inhaled sharply as the cool air met the raging heat between her thighs. Hermione squinted her eyes as tight shut as she could, waiting in painful silence for his next move.

She gasped when he inserted his finger between her wet folds, gliding it all the way up to her swollen clit, back down and deep into her. "Yes," she hissed quietly as he added another finger and continued the short yet heavenly trip.

Three fingers. Ron's thumb focused on her clit while the others pumped into her, filling the room with loud, wet sluicing sounds. "Fuck, Hermione," Ron growled huskily as he removed his fingers. Hermione felt a strange sense of emptiness at the absence of his touch, but before she could complain, Ron replaced his fingers with his tongue.

"Oh God!" she cried at the completely new feeling. She tangled her hands in his hair, making escape impossible. Ron eagerly lapped up her juices, sucking and teasing her clit with his tongue as he used his fingers to pump in and out of her at a steady pace.

Hermione arched her back toward Ron, head firmly frozen to the pillow. She felt waves of pleasure assaulting her body in beautiful patterns that left her moaning and gasping Ron's name. She unconsciously used her hold on Ron's head to her advantage, helping him until he found the perfect angle.

Several minutes must have passed before Hermione felt the unmistakable glow of her climax growing inside her. "Right there, Ron. Oh God, yes, don't stop. Mmm yes… keep going… oh…" If anything, Ron's speed increased at these words, despite his growing exhaustion from the continuous thrusting and sucking.

Time seemed to freeze and Hermione went rigid, knowing what was to come next. And then it hit her, setting the world ablaze in beautiful hot flames as her muscles contracted around Ron's fingers. She moaned deeply at the furious pace he kept, letting out sharp screams at the zaps of electricity that shocked her as he sucked her clit. Hermione's thighs were clamped tightly around Ron, hands making a mess of his hair as she rode out the waves of – without a doubt – the strongest orgasm she'd experienced thus far in her life.

When it was over, Hermione collapsed, exhausted and feeling almost intoxicated by the impossible amount of sheer joy she was experiencing. She let herself rest; enjoying the throbbing aftershocks she could feel pounding through her entire body like a giant heartbeat. She was only half aware of Ron as he crawled up to lie next to her on the bed. "Wow," she breathed, trying to make the ceiling come into focus. She glanced at Ron with a goofy smile. She could smell herself on his face as he grinned back at her, looking quite smug with himself. She decided he had every right to be that way. "That was… extraordinary. Where did you learn to do that?"

Ron shrugged as if it were nothing. "Part instinct, part guessing, part body language."

Hermione laughed and pulled him closer to kiss him. She moaned, realizing she could taste herself on his mouth. It was strangely erotic and arousing to know. She pulled back and stared deep into his beautiful blue eyes that she loved so dearly. "I love you," she murmured, pressing her still sensitive body into him and enjoying the sparks it created.

"Love who?"

Hermione blinked abruptly. That wasn't Ron's voice. No, that voice belonged to Fay Dunbar, one of her roommates!

Hermione, panicking, reached down to grab the covers that would cover herself and Ron, just to find herself snatching at empty sheets. She sat up quickly, earning herself a throbbing headache; the kind one might experience if they moved too fast from a resting position.

Fay had opened the curtains to Hermione's bed and was standing with her arms crossed suspiciously, brown hair messy with bedhead and blue eyes inquisitive. Hermione looked down to find herself wearing her pajamas – Muggle bottoms and a tank top – as she lie underneath the covers of her blanket. She looked up at Fay again, everything suddenly becoming clear with a chilling sense of dread and grief.

It had been a dream.

Hermione felt herself on the verge of tears and held them back as best as she could. She didn't want to cry here, especially in front of Fay. While Fay was definitely better than someone else (say… Lavender?) in this situation, she wasn't exactly what one would call sympathetic to Hermione's obsession over Ronald Weasley. She'd freely expressed her feelings over the matter, telling Hermione she was better off with the famous Harry Potter in any case.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Hermione asked, her voice croaking as she wiped away the betraying wetness in her eyes with her arm.

Fay shook her head. "No, you weren't that loud. I only woke in time to hear you moaning and something about 'I love you'." She raised an eyebrow. "But that is still quite curious, you must admit."

Hermione nodded and gulped. "Yeah. Curious. I was dreaming, end of story. I'm sorry you had to hear that."

Fay watched Hermione for another minute, seeming that she was about to press further on the matter. Hermione gave her a dangerous glare and she nodded in understanding, only staying long enough to apologize for intruding before returning to her own bed.

Hermione managed to utter a silencing charm before letting herself collapse on the bed, the tears refusing to be held any longer. She sobbed uncontrollably into her pillow and, rather loudly, cursed. Normally, the bright witch would never have condemned herself to such behavior, but at the moment she didn't care. She was hot and sweaty and aroused in the most bothersome way all because of her ridiculous crush on Ron Weasley – a boy too immature to apologize for his mistakes, no matter how obvious they were.

She didn't hate him as much as she hated herself for liking him. She knew that her love for him was fruitless and could only cause her despair, but it wasn't as if she could tell herself to stop loving him. She sighed. If only it were that easy.

Hermione peeked out the curtains of her bed and the window to where the sun was just beginning to rise. _It's never too early to go to the library,_ she decided. _What'll be better to help me forget that… dream then a good book and some studying? Yes! To the library!_

She jumped out of bed, grabbing her black robes to put over her pajamas. She didn't want to wait too long to go, otherwise she risked running into Ron. It was a Saturday, after all, and no one knew better than her how lazy Ron could get over the weekends.

Beginning her descent to the Common Room, Hermione felt herself becoming a little more at ease. She had abandoned the scene of the crime. _But Ron is my friend, or he used to be, _she thought to herself. _Eventually we'll make up. We always do. What about then? I can hardly live with myself when we're not talking every day!_

She was about to tell herself that she was being foolish – that she wouldn't have to worry about that at the moment – when she found herself at the entrance to the Common Room, mere feet away from Ron. He was on the couch, watching her with those stunning blue eyes that made the butterflies in her stomach flutter madly. He seemed as uncertain about seeing her as she was of him. _Well, I could run and ignore him, _she thought. _Or I could try to be his friend again. That would be better than nothing, wouldn't it?_

She agreed with the latter. Putting thought into each movement, she stepped closer to him. "It's Saturday. What are you doing down so early?"

The answer was quite obvious. He was still in full uniform and his hair looked like it had… well, it looked like he'd been asleep. "I… er… fell asleep down here," he stuttered. The tone of his voice told her he was hiding something, though she wasn't sure what. She decided not to push it.

"Oh," she said, not quite sure how to continue but not wanting to end their conversation. She bought time by walking toward him until she was only two feet away. "I was on my way to the library. Would you like to come with me?" She figured he would say no, but it was worth a shot.

Ron cringed, which confused Hermione. It wasn't his usual 'Oh, books, yuck!' cringe, but more of a 'Why must you say that in front of me?' cringe. She had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to interpret that. "Um… I can't come with you now, but maybe some other time, yeah?"

That was tricky indeed. What was he playing at? Hermione fought the urge to ask 'Who are you and what have you done with Ron?'. Since when did Ron say he'd like to go the library at all? Hermione decided to test him and smiled (unknowing of how special her smile really was). "Sure, Ron. I'd love you to come with me sometime."

The strangest moment of silence passed as Hermione observed his reaction. He looked in pain, like he was about to explode or something. His eyes took a quick trip down her body – so fast Hermione almost missed it – before they met hers, chocolate and brilliant blue mixing and blending into a beautiful warm substance that made Hermione feel like the most special girl in the world.

Ron opened his mouth, about to say something, when he was interrupted by the unpleasant gait of what Hermione knew to be his girlfriend. Hermione stood straight, half of her wanting to stay and challenge Lavender, when she looked at Ron. No, she had to go. If Fay had told anyone a single word of what she'd said in her sleep, there was no doubt Lavender would be all Crazy Stalker Girlfriend about protecting her precious 'Won-Won.' Hermione nodded curtly at Ron. "Nice seeing you, Ronald."

As she exited the Common Room, Hermione heard Lavender squeal and the unmistakable sound of… well, what else did Ron and Lavender do? "Hold on," she whispered to the Fat Lady, peeking around the portrait to look inside at the couple embracing. _Ew, _she glared at them, questioning her intents. Her gaze softened as she watched Ron tangle his fingers in Lavender's beautifully straight and neat hair. Hermione sniffed and felt her scalp tingle. _That should be me in there… not her._

Lavender stopped and scolded Ron for messing with her hair and Hermione almost laughed. Lavender sure didn't know what she was missing! Ron _loved _touching and playing with hair. Well, at least Ron loved doing so with dream Hermione's hair.

But that was exactly the point. Ron belonged to dream Hermione, not real Hermione. Real Hermione would have to move on without Ron's large, calloused hands or his skilled tongue. Getting shagged or eaten out by him were only the acts dream Hermione would get to experience, and she would have to learn to accept that.

The Fat Lady – who had been patiently waiting the whole time – sighed dramatically. "Honestly, Dear," she said, "after all you and your two little boy friends have done over the last six years, are you going to let this be the one thing that you don't have the courage for?"

Hermione glared at the Fat Lady. "It's not like that. He doesn't like me."

The Fat Lady laughed. "Ah, how innocent you are for thinking so."

The portrait hole had closed by this time. Hermione crossed her arms. "It's not as if you would know anything," she grumbled angrily. She really didn't have the time nor temper for this discussion, not after last night.

"Oh, right," the Fat Lady said, "I just guard the Common Room. I see everyone coming in and going out. After a few years, you learn things." She looked down at Hermione, suddenly with sympathy. "Maybe you will see what everyone else has seen someday as well."

"Okay, thanks," Hermione said, turning and stalking away from the Fat Lady. She didn't have time to talk to some romantic, misinterpreting Fat Lady. She had to go to the library.

Little did she know, however, that the lines between real Hermione and dream Hermione were going to fade soon.

**And that Chapter took a ridiculous amount of time to write/edit/proofread. xP Anyway, I should probably be getting to bed… so if you enjoyed it please favorite or follow or review (or stare at the page awkwardly while I lay on my floor in silence wondering if anybody liked it) because it will make my day. **

** So happy reading, and good night!**

**Oh, and Happy New Year! :D**


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